Crazy Hot (The Au Pairs 4)

"You've been to Lebanon?" Eliza asked, impressed.

Midas nodded. "We did a shoot for French Vogue in the city ruins. It's a shame what's happened to that country. They've rebuilt a lot since the war, but it's a slow process, and the recent skirmishes obviously haven't helped." Midas shook his head, saddened. "Beirut was the Riviera of the Middle East. The most fantastic nightclubs, and the food was amazing. Try this, it's delicious," he added, passing Eliza a plate of merguez sausages.

Eliza took a little bite. He was right--they were yummy. Tonight was purely business, but she couldn't help feeling that the circumstances were rather enjoyable. As an intern with Sydney Minx, she'd helped out on fashion shoots before, but those had been drawn-out affairs, with teams of stylists arguing with the photographer and Sydney about how the clothes should look. The Easton boys worked "light," with just a handful of assistants, and Midas had been so confident in her vision that he'd let her style the shoot without any help from outside professionals.

She felt a tiny bit guilty about enjoying the party when she'd left Jeremy alone for the night, but they had made plans to catch

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the fireworks from his dock later. Besides, as she'd told herself a dozen times, he wouldn't have fun at a party like this, especially not with her and Midas wrapped up in fashion talk.

In the short time they'd been working together, Eliza had quickly divined that Midas made all the decisions for team Easton, while Marcus seemed to be content to go with the flow. As far as she could see, Marcus's main task consisted of talking up the project to anyone who would listen--he was the mouth of the operation, Midas the brain. But when she'd hinted as much, Midas explained that while he usually took the bulk of the photographs with his professional Canon, Marcus tended to capture great candid moments with his little Canon Elph that added texture to the shoot as a whole.

"So, where else have you been?" Eliza asked, reaching for the crock of couscous on the table and spooning some onto her plate.

"Oh my, everywhere," Midas said. "Let's see, last month we were in Hanoi for Visionnaire," he said, naming a very avant-garde fashion magazine. "We had snake for dinner."

"Snake?" Eliza shuddered.

"It's supposed to be an aphrodisiac. You eat the heart and the blood," Marcus explained, smiling as Eliza looked askance. "We couldn't offend our hosts, so we did it."

"What did it taste like?" she asked, happy to be chewing on a baked fig and not some uncooked reptile's guts.

"Chicken." Midas laughed. "Ever had fugu?" he asked, naming the rare Japanese blowfish.

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"Isn't that poisonous?" Eliza asked, dipping a falafel ball into the cup of yogurt. She usually skipped the food offerings at a party, but the spread was too tantalizing to resist.

"Not if it's cooked correctly. Besides, I like to live dangerously," he said, raising an eyebrow James Bond style. "Easton. Midas Easton," he added for effect.

She laughed and took a bite of the falafel ball, careful not to let the yogurt drip onto her dress. "So what's the scariest thing you've ever seen?"

"When we went scuba diving in Palau with Quentin Tarantino, we came face-to-face with a great white. Thought that was it, that was the end. But he just bumped us, scared the shit out of me--and went on his merry way."

Eliza raised an eyebrow, impressed. "I went running with the bulls in Pamplona one year when I was little. With my parents. We didn't know they didn't let kids do it. I got separated from them and cried my eyes out."

Midas whistled in sympathy. "Bet you gave the bulls a good run, though," he teased.

She smiled at Midas. For all his celebrity-studded stories and global travels, he was so down-to-earth and easy to talk to. He leaned back in his chair and studied Eliza thoughtfully, his shaggy bangs falling into his eyes. "By the way, I looked at the fall portfolio you sent over. It's really quite fantastic."

"Thanks." Eliza smiled, coloring with pleasure.

"I worked for a season with Phoebe Philo, of Chloe. Your

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work reminds me of hers. It's incredibly modern and fresh," he continued.

Eliza gaped. Phoebe Philo was pretty much her hero. "Go on," Eliza said demurely.

Marcus chuckled. "You're going to get a lot of attention because you're so young and beautiful, you know. But you've also got the chops to back it up. I won't be surprised if you start getting backers. Or if the Vuitton group snatches you up, launches you like they did Stella McCartney. Of course, you can look like a troll and still be successful in this business--I won't name names." He grinned wickedly. "But if you have the looks as well as the brains and the savvy, nothing can stop you."

Eliza lowered her lashes and blushed. It was so flattering to have someone---especially someone who knew the fashion industry-- understand and appreciate her work. Plus, he'd said she was beautiful, hadn't he?

"So who's the lucky guy?" Midas asked, nodding toward the rock on her finger.

"My boyfriend, Jeremy," Eliza replied. "We've been dating for three years," she added, almost apologetically.